“As soon as we get a mile or two away from the house,” said Hendrik, “we may be able to discover their tracks. It is no use our examining the ground over which so many cattle have passed. But supposing we should learn that we are on the right course, what then, Willem?”
“Then we must follow it till the giraffes are retaken,” answered Willem. “I should have but little hope of catching them again,” he continued, “did I not know that they are now quite tame. I should as soon think of my own horse absconding, and going a hundred miles into the wilderness, to avoid me. We shall find the giraffes if we persevere; and, once found, they won’t hinder us from catching them.”
From the quiet behaviour of the giraffes for the last three weeks, Arend and Hendrik could not deny the truth of Willem’s assertions; and all three urged their horses forward, more anxious than ever to come upon the spoor of the strays.
After passing beyond the ground tracked by the farm cattle, they once more came out upon the so-called road, along which they had travelled the day before. But for more than a mile, after the most careful examination, no spoor of giraffe, old or young, was to be seen. Even those made by them on the day before could no longer be distinguished in the dust. The rain, with the tracks of other animals coming after, had obliterated them. The state of the ground they were examining was now favourable for receiving a permanent impression; and, as none appeared, they became satisfied that the runaways had not returned that way.
After a long consultation which came near ending in a wrangle, Willem being opposed by his companions, it was decided that they should ride round in a circle of which the dwelling of the boer should be the centre. By so doing, the spoor of the lost animals should be found. It was the only plan for them to take, and slowly they rode on, feeling very uncomfortable at the uncertainty that surrounded them.
The country over which they were riding was a poor pasture with patches of thinly growing grass. A herd of cattle and horses, old and young, had lately gone over the ground, and often would the eye catch sight of tracks so like those made by a giraffe that one of the party would dismount for a closer examination before being able to decide.
To Groot Willem this slow process was torturing in the extreme. He believed that the giraffes were each moment moving farther away from the place.
After the search had been continued for nearly two hours, a spoor was at length found that was unmistakably that of a camelopard. With a shout of joy Willem turned his horse and commenced taking it up. It was fresh,—made but a few hours before.
Under the excitement of extreme fortune, whether it be good or bad, people do not act with much wisdom.
So thought Hendrik as he called the attention of Willem to the fact that they had started out for the purpose of finding the spoor but not following it; that they would require the help of Congo and Spoor’em; that they must provide themselves with food and other articles necessary for a two or three days’ journey.
Believing that, by the time they could go back to the house and return, the giraffes would gain a distance of not less than ten or fifteen miles, Hendrik’s suggestions seemed absurd, and his companion, without heeding them, kept on along the trail.
Hendrik and Arend could do nothing but follow. Before they had gone very far, Arend made the observation that the tracks they were now following appeared too large to have been made by the young giraffes.
“That’s all a fancy of yours,” rejoined Willem, as he hurried on.
“There appears to have been only one that went this way,” said Hendrik, after they had gone a little farther.
“Never mind,” answered Willem, “we have no time to look for the other. It won’t be far away from its companion, and we shall probably find them together.”
Notwithstanding what Willem said, his comrades were convinced that they were following the track of only one giraffe, and that larger than either of those that had been lost. They again ventured to give their opinion about it.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Willem. “There has not been a giraffe in this part of the country for the last ten years, except the two we ourselves brought here.”
This statement would have been indorsed by every settler for a hundred miles around. For all that, it was a wrong one, as our adventurers soon had reason to be convinced.
Before they had gone another mile, the large body and lofty head of a giraffe loomed up before their eyes! On seeing it, they put spurs to their horses and rode straight toward it. They got within about three hundred yards of it before their approach was discovered.
For the first ten minutes of the chase that then ensued, the distance between the hunters and the retreating giraffe remained about the same.
Gradually it began to diminish. The giraffe appeared to become exhausted with only a slight exertion; and on reaching a piece of marshy ground, where its feet sunk into the mud, it made a violent struggle and then fell over on its side.
On riding forward to the spot, the hunters had an explanation of why the chase was so soon over. They were only surprised that the creature had been able to run at all.
It proved to be an ancient male of which but little was left but the skin and bones.
It looked as though it was the last of its race, about to become extinct.
On its back and other parts of its body were lumps as large as walnuts, the scars of old wounds, where musket-bullets had been lodged in its body several years before!
The rusty head of an arrow was also seen protruding from its side.
It had the appearance of having been hunted for a score of years, and hundreds of times to have been within an inch of losing its life.
Its enemy, man, had overtaken it at last, and was gazing upon its struggling not with exultation, but rather with pity and regret.
They felt no triumph in having run down and captured a thing that had been so long struggling with death. Groot Willem, who had been for a time highly elated with the prospect of recovering the lost giraffes, was again in great despondence. Much time had been squandered in this purposeless pursuit.
He was not one to yield easily to despair; and yet despair was now upon him. There was every symptom of a dark night coming down, and it was now near. Inspired either by pity or revenge, he sent a bullet from his roer into the head of the struggling skeleton; and, throwing himself into the saddle, he turned the head of his horse once more towards the house.
An attempt had been made to recover the lost giraffes. It had failed. Night was close at hand. Nothing more could be done for that day, and Willem now declared his willingness to return to Graaf Reinet and die.
Hope had departed from his heart, and he no longer felt a desire to live.
Hendrik and Arend, although sympathising with him in their common misfortune, exchanged looks of congratulation. They would now be permitted to go home.
Chapter Sixty Six.
News of the Lost.
The sky had been overclouded all day, and continued so as the sun went down. Over them descended a night as dark as Erebus.
Perceiving the impracticability of getting that night to the house of the boer,—a distance of ten or fifteen miles,—the disappointed trackers dismounted, and staked their horses upon the grass, determined to wait for the return of another day.
The night was passed in fitful slumbers around a camp-fire, where they were only visited by a flight of large moths, and some laughing hyenas, that by their harsh cachinations seemed to mock them in their misery.
They were in a district of country from which the most noble of its denizens seemed to have been driven, and the most despicable only remained. When morning dawned they again climbed into their saddles and continued on towards the kraal of the boer.
When, as they supposed, within about five miles of the house, they met two strange horsemen coming in the opposite direction.
“Goot morgen, shentlemens!” saluted one of the strangers as they drew near. “I’m glat to meet some ones coming your ways. Hash you seen anything of our horses?”
“Do you mean those you are now riding?” asked Hendrik.
“No, not these, but five other horses,—no, three horses and two mares,—all mitout either sattles or pridles; one red horse mit one eye and a white poot on the left behind leg, one mare mit a star on the front of his head, und—”
“No,” interrupted Hendrik, “we have been out since yesterday morning, but have seen no stray horses of any description; not a horse except those we are riding ourselves.”
“Then we need not look in the direction you have been,” said the other horseman, who spoke English with a proper accent. “Will you please tell us whence you have come?”
Hendrik gave them a brief history of their course during the last twenty-four hours; and, in doing so, mentioned the object of their expedition,—the search after the giraffes.
“If that’s what you’ve been after,” said the man who spoke proper English, “perhaps we can assist you a little. From what you tell me, I presume you must have been staying at the kraal of Mynheer Van Ormon. Yesterday morning we were looking for our horses about ten miles south of his place, when we saw two giraffes, the first I had ever seen in my life. We were badly mounted, and unprepared for hunting anything except our strayed horses, else we should have given chase.”
“Ten miles to the south of the kraal!” exclaimed Willem, “and we seeking for them twenty to the north. What fools we have been. What were the giraffes doing?” he asked earnestly, turning towards the man who had one more awakened within him the sweet sentiment of hope. “Were they grazing or going on?”
“They were travelling southward at a gentle trot, but increased their speed on seeing us. We were not within a quarter of a mile of them.”
Our adventurers were too impatient to stay longer on the spot; and, after getting a few further directions, they bade the strangers good day and hastened on towards the house.
On entering its enclosure the first person they encountered was the boer Mynheer Van Ormon.
“I see pat luck mit you, mine poys,” said the Dutchman, as they rode up to him. “I knowed it would pe so. The cameels have goed too far for you.”
“Yes, too far to the south,” answered Willem. “We have heard of them, and must be off immediately. Where are our companions?”
“They goed away yester morgen to live where the oxen get grass. They now waiting for you at the south.”
“That’s all right,” said Hendrik. “We must hasten to join them; but I think we’d be better of something to eat first. I’m starving. Mynheer Van Ormon, we must again trespass on your hospitality.”
“So you shall, mine poys, mit pleasure all around; put who told you I vas Mynheer Van Ormon?”
“The same two men who told us about the giraffes. They were looking for some stray horses.”
“Dat mush be mine neighbour Cloots, who live fifteen miles to the east of thish place. They say they see the cameels. Where an’ when they see ’em?”
“Yesterday morning, about ten miles south of this place, they said.”
“May be dey be gone to Graaf Reinet to say you are coming. Ha, he, hi! Dat ish ver’ goot.”
The boer then conducted his guests towards the dwelling. On passing a hut by the way, the hunters were surprised at seeing Congo suddenly disappear around a corner!
On the part of the Kaffir, the encounter appeared both unexpected and undesired, as he had started back apparently to avoid them.
This was a new mystery.
“Ho Congo! come back here,” shouted Willem. “Why are you here? Why are you not with the others?”
The Kaffir did not condescend to make answer, but skulked into the hut.
The boer now proceeded to explain that the Kaffir had expressed a wish to be employed at his place, and had declared that he would proceed no further with his former masters, who had cruelly ill-treated him for allowing the giraffes to escape. He denied having done anything to influence this strange decision.
“This cannot be,” said Willem. “There must be some mistake. He is not telling the truth if he says that we beat him. I may have spoken to him somewhat harshly; I admit having done so, but I did not know he was so sensitive. I’m sorry, if I have offended him, and am willing to apologise.”
Mynheer Van Ormon stepped up to the door of the hut and commanded the Kaffir to come forth.
When Congo showed himself at the entrance, Willem apologised to him for the harsh language he had used, and, in the same manner as one friend should speak to another, entreated him to forget and forgive, and return with them to Graaf Reinet.
During this colloquy the sharp eyes of the boer were glancing from master to servant, as though he knew what the result would be. They showed a gleam of satisfaction as the Kaffir declared that he preferred remaining with his new master; and the only favour he now asked of Willem was some compensation for his past services.
Had Congo been one of the brothers, Hans or Hendrik Von Bloom, Willem could not have done more towards effecting a reconciliation. At length, becoming indignant at the unaccountable conduct of his old servitor, he turned scornfully away, and, along with Hendrik and Arend, entered the house.
After seeing a joint of cold boiled beef, a loaf of brown bread, and a bottle of Cape wine placed before his guests, the boer went out again.
Hastily repairing to one of the sheds, he there found a Hottentot servant at hard work in saddling one of his horse.
“Piet,” said he, speaking in great haste, “quick, mine poy! chump into your saddle, and ride out to the north till you meet mine bruder and Shames. Tell them not to come more so near as half a mile to the house for one hour. Make haste an’ pe off!”
Two minutes more and the Hottentot was on the horse, galloping away in the direction given to him.
Having satisfied their hunger, thanked their host and his fat vrow for their hospitality, and bidden them farewell, our adventurers started off for the South, anxious to rejoin Hans, and continue the search after the giraffes.
Chapter Sixty Seven.
Why Congo turned Traitor.
Unwilling to trespass any longer on the hospitality of Mynheer Van Ormon, Hans had left the house with the intention to encamp somewhere near it, and wait for the return of his companions.
To this the boer had made but little opposition, and his guest proceeded to prepare the Makololo for a removal. They were still suffering all the horrors of a recovery from their first spell of intoxication, and, on entering the hut where they had passed the night, Hans found them full of that species of repentance that leads to strong resolutions of future reformation.
On being informed of the loss of the giraffes, their remorse seemed as if it would tempt them to suicide, and one of them, while tearing his wool-covered head, kept repeating the word kombi, kombi!
